Several years ago, while on a short stop in New York City, I treated a few friends to dinner at Picholine. Little did I know that the experience of that evening would begin a love affair with one of the best restaurants in America.
Picholine is on West 64th Street just a few steps from Central Park. It takes its name from the small green olive harvested in the Mediterranean. Since opening in 1993, it has consistently been hailed as one of the best restaurants in Manhattan.
The chef/owner Terrance Brennan operates several other restaurants, but Picholine is my favorite thus far. At Picholine, he showcases his commitment to quality and invention. My favorite touch is the cheese cart which displays well over 50 of the finest artisanal cheeses selected, cut and plated for you by the master fromaggier (aka cheese dude).
Two years ago, the restaurant was re-designed to include a no-reservations wine and cheese bar where the waiting area (for the dining room) used to be. And this is the reason why Nick and I stopped in last week while we were in Manhattan – we were dying to see if the wine and cheese bar could pull off what the dining room at Picholine did, i.e. fresh and innovative cuisine, but in a relaxed setting. The dining room enforces a jackets for men, no jeans, otherwise business attire policy; whereas, the wine and cheese bar couldn’t care less what you are wearing. So jeans we wore!
When we arrived, there was no one seated in the wine and cheese bar. The famous cheese cart was a few steps from the bar, and we quickly grabbed a small table at the end closest to the dining room. “What’s that smell?” Nick said. “The cheese,” I noticed. Yum.
We learned that we could order “tasting plates” or “tasting flights” (or both), as well as cheese from the cheese cart, desserts from the regular dessert menu, and any drink we wanted. In fact, we learned that if we really begged, the captain would let us order from the regular menu. (We learned this when an hour into the experience, a couple next to us did just that.)
First up, we decided that we would try the mushroom risotto.
Mushroom Risotto
I’ve long believed that Le Cirque (150 E 58th St) has held the title to “best mushroom risotto,” so truth be told, I wasn’t expecting much from this. Oh, to be sure, I know it would be good. But I didn’t know how good.
And good it was. Creamy pearls of al dente risotto with woodsy mushrooms cooked just under tender, just to the point where they burst in the mouth when pressure is applied, and the right amount of garlic and broth to bring it all together. Frankly, at this point, I could have ordered two more bowls of this jewel and been down for the count. (The captain brought out a nice white to pair with this dish, but my notes are fuzzy, and I cannot recall its name or origin.)
Next up was the Sheep’s Milk Ricotta Gnocchi.
Sheep's Milk Ricotta Gnocchi
This was one of two disappointing dishes of the evening. I’ve had some amazing gnocchi in the past, and the defining characteristic of awesome gnocchi has got to be the airiness of it. Great gnocchi is not heavy or mushy – rather, it’s light and airy. I mean, really, who wants to eat a bowl of gnocchi and end up half an hour later with a belly full of gunk?
Sadly, this gnocchi, while in a wonderful Autumn vegetable broth, was gooey and thick. Nick and I both agreed that it was a misfire. No wine with this dish.
Next we decided to splurge and spend $35 for a plate of the extremely rare Jamon Iberico de Bellota.
Jamon Iberico de Bellota
Jamon Iberico (also called Pata Negra) is a type of cured ham produced only in Spain. Legally, it must be at least 75% black Iberian pig. These pigs are special. Immediately after weaning, they are fattened on barley and maize, then allowed to roam to feed naturally on grass, herbs, acorns, and roots. Eventually, a few months before slaughter time, they are permitted to eat only acorns. (Lesser quality Jamon Iberico are fed acorns as well as commercial feed. The world’s best Jamon Iberico are fed only acorns immediately before slaughter).
After slaughter, the hams are salted and dried for two weeks, then rinsed and dried for another four to six weeks. Curing can take 12-36 months. The longer the cure, the more expensive the ham.
So tonight, we decided to taste the ham that we’d only read about. It was . . . amazing. It was also . . . a bit much. See, whomever plated this for us carved a bit too much of the ham. A few strips would have been sufficient. After a few bites, we felt like we had been served a side of pig! Understand that this ham is no ordinary ham – it’s extremely rich and flavorful, deep, with nuances galore, and very, very fatty. Seriously, we could not eat all they gave us, and we felt a bit weird having to pass on finishing the dish. Yes, yes, it was very, very good. It was the richest, most flavorful ham we’d ever had, better than any Italian prosciutto we’d ever tried. But it was like being presented with the richest, sweetest, most chocolately cocoa ever imagined – and then being told to drink five cups of it.
When we asked for cheese to accompany the ham, the captain called over the master fromaggier (the cheese dude) to ask which cheese would be best. “Oh, that’s easy,” he said. “A Gruyere.”
Gruyere with the Jamon Iberico
True, he knew his cheese. The Gruyere was nutty and fatty, just like the ham.
With the ham and cheese, the captain brought out two glasses of the Emilio Moro 2005 Ribero del Duero Tempranillo. Its rich tannins cut right through the fatty ham, while its nutty nose and fruity and spicy body were the perfect match. The captain knew how to pair wines, for sure.
Next up were the “tasting flights.” (To be clear, we did the meal in reverse, so to speak. Apparently, the typical tasters come in for cheese, then a flight, then a plate. We did it in reverse. The captain seemed to care less, as he was much more focused on ensuring we experienced a flawless evening.)
The tasting flights were $20 for any three off the menu. Nick chose Paella Spring Roll, Smoked Paprika Shrimp, and Dry Aged Beef a la Basquaise.
Nick's Tasting Flight: Dry Aged Beef, Spring Rolls, Paprike Shrimp
The beef was sublime. Just sublime. It melted in our mouth. The spring roll was light and airy. I have no idea how the chef managed to get a spring roll to be so light. The only misfire of this trio was the shrimp. The flavor was excellent, smoky and deep paprika, but the shrimp was cold. Oh, not to be misunderstood, I’m fairly certain that the shrimp was intended to be cold. But the cold shrimp with the clammy sauce and popcorn (???) was just . . . yuck.
The other flight was nearly identical but instead of the spring rolls, we had mushroom tempura.
John's Tasting Flight: Mushroom Tempura, Paprika Shrimp, Dry Aged Beef
Nick hated them. John loved them. These were not your typical State Fair variety of fried mushroom. They were light and airy and had no soggy dough surrounding a tiny bit of fungus. No, these were plump morsels of mushrooms gently fried in a tempura.
We then asked for a flight of bleu cheeses. Four to be exact: (1) Bleu de Laqueuille, (2) Stilton, (3) Valdeon, and (4) Rouge River Blue.
Various Bleu Cheeses
All were amazing, and frankly, my notes are so fuzzy, I can’t tell you which was the best. My memory is that all were creamy and nutty, with deep notes of salt and bleu flavor.
The captain paired all with the impeccable 2003 Cru D’Arche-Pugneau Sauternes. It was, in a word – perfect. What else can we say?
Next up was the worst misstep of the evening. And to be fair, it wasn’t really Picholine’s fault. We asked the captain if they had any “stinky” cheese. He said that they didn’t carry Limburger or anything like that but that they had something close. “I must warn you not to get any on your hands,” he said.
It looked innocent enough.
The Horribly Nasty Krummenswiler Forsterkase
The taste? In a word – Awful. No, let’s try two words – Horribly Awful. Actually, let’s try three words. Ok, you get the point. It was bad. Really bad. It smelled like a wet dog. And it tasted like dog poop. Really, that’s the only fair way to describe it. And to be sure, I’ve never actually tasted dog poop. But I imagine that this is the way it must taste. This was horrible. The culprit is the nasty Krummenswiler Forsterkase. It is a cow milk cheese from Switzerland. The description from the producder indicates, “soft with a spicy mustard flavor.” The taster must have been high.
We spent the next 15 minutes trying to get the taste (and smell) from our mouths. I’m not kidding. Nick thought he was going to throw up.
Nick Doesn't Like This Cheese
Thankfully, dessert was next. We had three courses. First was the sweet roll. Think deconstructed apple pie.
Dessert I - Deconstructed Apple Pie
Next was the sorbet on a thin waffle cone. Again, the deconstruction theme continued.
Dessert II - Three Kinds of Sorbet on a Waffle Cone
Next were about ten different chocolate minardes. They were all flawless.
Dessert III - Chocolate Minardes
Finally, hot cocoa was brought out. Oh, I know what you are thinking – hot chocolate? Right? Wrong.
World's Best Hot Cocoa
This was the most decadent, rich, flavorful and sinful hot cocoa that we’d ever had. No need for sugar or anything else to add to it. It was perfect on its own. And we finished every last drop.
By this point, about four hours had elapsed, and we were ready to be rolled into a cab, thrown to our hotel bedroom, and left to ponder our next great meal in New York City, the culinary capital of America.
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